Like A Moth To Flame
by Houkanno Yuuhou
Summary: For Marcosbnpinto's birthday. With Arnold off living with his parents, Helga's sick of being alone and wants some affection from someone in particular. If you don't like the thought of same-sex love, this probably isn't for you.


Rolled up in a quilt on Phoebe's very soft bed with a volume of one of her favorite manga, school and work were far from being on the blonde's mind. Her best friend, however, appeared to be dutifully reading their mythology textbook and writing on a sheet of paper. Helga grinned to herself; those carefully handcrafted notes would belong to her later in the night, she knew. The petite half-Japanese girl didn't need to do it for herself because once read, everything would be committed to memory in that wonderfully huge brain of hers.

The blonde shifted her position slightly, feeling a little less than stellar with herself at the moment. The chapter could be committed to her own memory if she actually felt like bothering with it. Her friend shouldn't be doing her work for her.

_That's Phoebe for you._

She sighed and put her book down. "You know you don't need to do that, Pheebs," she addressed her friend somewhat irritably. "I can read it later. I just don't feel like doing it right now."

"I know. Just trying to help." Phoebe didn't even bother to look up, but Helga noticed the shy smile on her face, all the same.

"You shouldn't be so helpful," Helga scoffed. "People take advantage of that."

_Oh God, do they ever._

The tiny teen on the floor giggled lightly and peeked up at her with that same shy smile. "You usually like this class, Helga," she said, politely changing the subject. "I'm surprised you aren't down here with me."

_With her? What does she mean?_

Dumbfounded, she stared at Phoebe for a minute and then shook any remaining perverted thoughts from her head. Her friend gave her an odd look, clearly waiting for an answer. Helga blushed with embarrassment and snuggled deeper in to the quilt, muttering, "I'm just not interested in tales of Zeus' philandering right now, all right?"

Phoebe looked at her for another minute before finally shrugging her shoulders and returning to her work.

The anxious blonde, meanwhile, was cursing at the ceiling. Maybe she was reading way too much sappy manga. She should get back to the pure action stuff instead. Rurouni Kenshin was having an overwhelming affect on her with all of its romantic crap. It didn't help that she was rereading the Kyoto arc. It also didn't help that her best friend was small, gentle, and kind like the hero of the manga.

_Whoa, Nelly! Helga, old girl, you have definitely been reading way too much of this junk if you're starting to daydream about yourself as Kaoru - well, I can see that part, but Phoebe is not Kenshin! Geez, woman! You need a boyfriend, badly!_

She sighed dejectedly. Fat chance of that happening with Arnold off gallivanting with his parents in God knows where, doing God knows what! May as well settle into her life as a spinster living in Olga's basement. Maybe some cats to keep her company, too.

She started to subconsciously pick the book back up, but groaned in annoyance when she caught herself. She closed it with a huff and glanced down at Phoebe, instead.

Pheebs was nice to her, yeah. That had to be what was making her act funny whenever in her presence for the past few weeks. She wasn't used to anyone being totally kind to her…at least not without there being some strings attached.

The only steady kindnesses she had ever had in her short miserable life were Arnold and Phoebe, so yeah, that had to be it. Without Arnold around, it was only natural that her feelings started migrating toward her best friend, right?

_Like some cold pathetic animal to a warm fire._

She certainly wasn't one of those chicks who just likes other girls. She still loved Arnold, so there was that.

But she had to admit that when that girl smiled at her a certain way, she felt a warmth spreading through her from her head to her toes, just like how Arnold made her feel.

An idea formed in her head…OK, not really an idea but more of an impulsive need, and she bent over the bed to swoop up a piece of paper. The process of tearing off little pieces and chewing them in her mouth calmed her, helped her to stop thinking so much. However, the act of spitting them was almost like sexual gratification for her. They were something akin to raining hundreds of kisses upon her target.

The target had become Phoebe over the last month.

She knew her friend wasn't stupid. No, not at all. Pheebs understood the whole spitball thing. Maybe not totally, but she got the implications behind it. For whatever reason, she had just chosen to ignore what Helga was doing which suited the blonde just fine.

Until that moment.

She needed something, but she didn't know what it was. Maybe she just wanted compassion. A little "gee, I know how badly you miss Arnold so come into my arms and let me make you feel better" would be nice. Maybe she needed a…bleh, hug or something.

Maybe she just wanted Phoebe to acknowledge what she was doing.

Suddenly, she was pulled from her musings by her friend's complaints. "You've been doing that a lot, lately."

Maybe she should just shut her mental trap before she got what she wanted!

Phoebe closed the textbook and sat up, glaring at Helga. "I must admit I'm a little confused by your actions. Spitballs are strictly an 'ice cream' thing, so why are you targeting me?"

Helga audibly gulped while Phoebe's eyes skewered her with a knowing look. She repositioned herself until she was facing the wall so she could find time to calm herself down. "I'm just bored, s'all."

"Right," Phoebe replied, voice oozing with sarcasm. "You've been plenty bored in the past, but you've never nailed me with spitballs. This didn't start until sometime around Valentine's Day. What gives?"

"I don't know," Helga mumbled into the pillow, silently willing Pheebs to drop interest. "I'm just not myself lately. Is that OK with you?"

The room was awkwardly quiet for a while. Phoebe tapped her pencil, a habit only done while deep in thought, and the rhythm nearly put Helga to sleep until her friend piped up again. "Was…was it Arnold's letter?"

Did it have to do with him? Was it all just because he said he was going to stop writing?

That same angry beast that always stuffed itself in the pit of her belly when she was frustrated reared its ugly head again, hurting her so much that all she knew to do to get rid of it was to lash out, and thus, she sprang up from the bed and unleash her fury on her poor unsuspecting friend.

"Is it because of him? I don't know! It could be! Hell, it could be because of me, too! I mean, he did everything I wanted him to, and he said the words I've been longing to hear from him, but was it good enough? No! Nothing ever seems to be good enough for me!"

"Helga, I'm sorry."

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Pheebs! I just…I love him, you know? But he's so far away, and I'm…I'm so..."

Arms embraced her trembling body, and those rose-colored lips she'd come to cherish nuzzled her neck and asked, "You're so what?"

"Lonely, Phoebe. I'm so damn lonely. I just want someone here to hold me and love me. It's not the same from thousands of miles away."

The mouth against her neck formed a grin and shook with laughter. "Silly, you're not lonely. I'm here for you, always."

Helga leaned into the warmth that surrounded her, drawing from it. With Arnold gone, she had almost forgotten how good it felt to get sucked into the flame. Her heart was starving for affection, and without even realizing it, she had wrapped herself around her small friend and was melting into her with a kiss.

She was shocked when Phoebe didn't shy away and downright mortified when the teen began to return it earnestly.

_Why? Why is she letting me do this to her? She already has Gerald! I don't get it!_

She reluctantly removed herself from Phoebe's grasp. "Why are you always so nice to me? You're not lonely, so it's not like you need what I need."

"Because you deserve to be loved, and I love you. You're my best friend, Helga. I want to make you happy. Is that so wrong?"

That same shining, tender smile that had caused Helga to feel butterflies in the past was on her friend's face again.

"I don't know what to say." She stared at the floor, feeling ashamed.

There was a hushed chuckle and a few pats against the bed. "Don't say anything. Just come here."

Helga grinned and sighed in relief. Did it really matter who loved her as long as she was loved? It wasn't some sort of unattainable dream anymore, and for that, she was eternally grateful.


End file.
